“I think it’s time we had a look around,” Adam said
Jane nodded, leaning against one of the metal filing cabinets that clearly had seen better days. “Sure. I’ll give you the nickel tour…. Sorry we’re short on the kind of fancy stuff you must be used to.”
But she didn’t look sorry, Adam saw. No, she seemed more amused than anything, as if she was waiting with considerable relish for him to avow needing state-of-the-art technology. Rather than give her the satisfaction, he decided it was time to wipe off that faint smirk.
“What I’m used to doesn’t matter,” he replied bluntly. “What counts is whether I’ll agree to try and pull off a miracle by making this place profitable.”
Her lips, as free of makeup as the rest of her face, thinned in a flash. “Will you?”
Despite the tension between them as they traded glances, he kept his expression bland. “I don’t know yet. We still haven’t finished the nickel tour….”
Husband in Harmony
Sharon Swan
MILLS & BOON
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For the Phoenix Desert Rose and Valley of the Sun chapters
of RWA and their group of great writers,
with many thanks for the terrific support
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Chicago, Sharon Swan once dreamed of dancing for a living. Instead, she surrendered to life’s more practical aspects, settled for an office job and concentrated on typing and being a big Chicago Bears fan. Sharon never seriously considered writing as a career until she moved to the Phoenix area and met Pierce Brosnan at a local shopping mall. The chance meeting changed her life, because she found herself thinking what if? What if two fictional characters had met the same way? That formed the basis for her first story, and she’s now cheerfully addicted to writing contemporary romance and playing what if?
Sharon loves to hear from readers. You can write her at P.O. Box 21324, Mesa, AZ 85277.
Books by Sharon Swan
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
912—COWBOYS AND CRADLES
928—HOME-GROWN HUSBAND
939—HUSBANDS, HUSBANDS…EVERYWHERE! *
966—FOUR-KARAT FIANCÉE
983—HER NECESSARY HUSBAND *
Contents
Chapter One
Adam Lassiter’s frown came fast and hard when he got his first good look at Glory Ridge Resort and Campground in the bright light of an Arizona summer day.
“Do you mean to tell me,” he said to the woman standing beside him, “that people actually pay to stay at this place?”
Jane Pitt stiffened, both at the words and the dry-as-dust tone, but managed not to answer in the same vein. She knew that giving as good as she got—normally her first response to any sort of confrontation—wouldn’t serve her best interests at the moment. However she might privately feel about slick business consultants who probably thought that slaving in a ritzy office was real work, she could put up with one if she had to.
And this one was slick as spit.
Fancy gray suit, fancy red tie, fancy black leather wing tips. Every long, lean inch of him shouted pricey.
“No one has paid to stay here lately,” Jane said with total honesty. She shoved her hands into the pockets of well-worn jeans and flicked her wheat-colored bangs aside with a shake of her head, reminding herself it was time to get the scissors out and whack some off. “That’s why I’m open to advice for changing the situation.”
“Free advice,” her companion pointed out in his low baritone voice. He gazed down at her with steely gray eyes, and for the umpteenth time in her life Jane wished she were taller. At five feet four and not much more than a hundred pounds dripping wet, looking as formidable as she would have liked was hard. But attitude could make a difference. She’d found that out early on.
“In exchange for a free stay at one of the cabins,” she countered. “I don’t want something for nothing.” She might not be big, but she had lots of pride.
His expression turned wary as he aimed another look at the small log cabins set against towering pines now rustled by a warm breeze. “Are there any safe enough to stay in? I’d hate to hear a roof collapsing on me in the middle of the night.”
“The roofs are sound.” She wouldn’t mention the leaks. “The whole place just needs some fixing up.”
“I’ll say.” He blew out a breath and ran a long-fingered hand through his dark, expertly cut hair. “From what I’ve seen, the best thing you’ve got going for you is the view.”
Jane switched around to take in a scene that would impress the most jaded of people. Low mountains encircled the small, sun-splashed city of Harmony, located a hundred winding miles northeast of Phoenix and its lower desert regions. Glory Ridge ran along the side of one of those mountains. The resort named after the ridge became part of the picture back when Harmony was a much younger version of itself.
“I grew up there,